


Reignite

by City_icesyah



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Angst, Carol Denning/Reader - Freeform, F/F, Free!Carol, Present!Carol - Freeform, Slow Burn, real talk about mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/City_icesyah/pseuds/City_icesyah
Summary: Lauren Troy was a nurse before convicted with multiple murders and placed into maximum security for a few years. But that's in the past now. And that's thanks to the family that she's born into that has the capability to keep her life ruin-proof.But all it's about to change when Carol Denning makes a reappearance; in the most unexpected ways.(sorry, I'm not good with writing the summary)





	Reignite

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic! I'm so excited and I hope you guys like it. Feel free to give me tips on how to make my writing better/more interesting. I'm still learning :D
> 
> Ps: I'm sorry if there are any errors too.

Ever since you could remember, you were never certain of your emotions. It was much easier to manipulate feelings rather than wasting energy to solve such a trivial mystery of your mind. That particular strategy, however odd, had been the main factor for not only your success in life, but you assume of your entire family. Varying media had slapped on countless titles like geniuses, progressive-minded, genetic and family goals. Using any silly, eye-catching terms to feed to the public. And they’d eat it up; they always do- like a junkie getting their hands on anything to get a fix out of reality. It’s sad, but the truth can be just that. No one wants their reality, not even yourself.

 

You, Lauren Troy, graduated from high school at 12 years old, successfully earning your double major degree in psychology and business by 16 before adding a degree in nursing and completing its master program at the age of 22, and finally working as a regular staff nurse. You, the daughter whose mother is one of the world’s best surgical oncologist, your father, the owner of one of wall street’s most profited firm five years running, the niece of a senator, and a CEO of New York’s number one hospital. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that you could lead a life that is untouchable and almost without consequences. However, it does seem to take a fucking genius to figure out that that life is excruciatingly isolating.

 

It wouldn’t surprise anyone from your family though, they’re smart enough to know that something stupid’s bound to happen. So went that ‘something stupid’ thing did happen, which was of you being found directly responsible of several patients’ deaths that were under your care, they just expressed fair amounts of disappointment and without another blink, would have proceeded to make the phone calls needed to fix the legal problem and handle whatever journalists that’d try to scoop up anything and make it a story.

 

What they didn’t expect was that you wanted to go to prison, and you wanted to serve the time the judged had given of four years. It confused your father the most. As dirty as he might be playing and winning in the money-making game, he loved you too much to have you stain your record and ruin your own future. You had persisted, barely at the edge of sanity from feeling so bothered by your own emptiness. You did something heinous, and you should face the consequences of it. You thought maybe then you’d be fixed. Finally, he had agreed but made an appeal to the judge for you to be placed into maximum security, away from any potential enemy that your family’s legacy might have made. Fortunately, serving your sentence went as smoothly as prison life could offer, and because of good behaviour and reputation, the board gave you an early release- two and a half years early. That night, you had laid down on your bed back in your expensive family home, forcing yourself to cry from just about anything- nothing happened.

 

Perhaps you felt slightly guilty when you realised how easy it was for you to get a job. It almost felt like nothing had changed. Like you weren’t hold up in a cell and only had an hour a day to see partial sunlight for 18 months. Like you hadn’t purposely overdosed vulnerable people and watch as they take their last breath. You ought to feel offended, you thought a second before accepting the offer of becoming a hospital CEO. Bonus point was having your brother as a colleague. Double bonus points for being able to resign comfortably at the age of 32.

 

So what if you definitely are an empty, emotionless being? You now have the money and time that could keep you cosy for a decade, and that’s without giving much thought to the calculation.

 

“Damn Laure, you’re really going for it huh? Got a plan for after?” Your brother brought your attention back to earth with the tone he used. There was a hint of jealousy that was laced in his first question, and you raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued that he’d feel that way. He wasn’t like you. He liked money, especially a shit ton of it to spend ridiculous things on. “Yeah, I doubt it’ll last long anyway. I get bored too easily.” “That’s true.” You were both just exiting the hospital to head over to a nearby restaurant for some late lunch when your brother phone’s ring. The ringtone was different than usual; it was a pop song that was playing. This meant that it was one of the girls he’d hooked up with called. You snicker at his confused look as he answers it.

 

“A babygirl of yours forget the rules or something? Or is she a new one?” You teased. He throws you a death glare before he walked away to have the conversation with some privacy, lifting his index finger for you to wait on. You turn your attention to the street in front and began people-watching. A fun activity to waste time, plus, it makes you think, and you like thinking. This suddenly made your mind run over the memories you had whilst in prison. You realise you didn’t have to do much thinking there. No stimulations, or puzzles, or mysteries that held your attention for long.

 

_Except for one._

 

Pieces of scattered memory flashes in your mind: steely blue eyes; a pair that could read you like how you read your favourite books. Death grips; the kind that’s so painful that you would feel alive in. Greying blond hair; something you didn’t know you have an itch to feel gently against your fingertips, almost like old pressed up leaves. And jumbled up letters that you think forms a name, what was it?

_Cathrine?_

_Cassie?_

_Cornelius?_

_Cape town?_

_Cornstarch?-_

 

“Hey Laur, we need to get back inside.” Your head snaps quickly to where your brother was, almost jogging shortly to reach you. “Why?” _Cheekytita?_ You think the C’s that are endlessly popping in your head are going to frustrate you to no end. “Remember Linda from MCC? Corporate prison people that would be better in prison?”

 

“You’re one to talk, but yeah I remember.” It would also mean that your brother had banged her a couple of times and the realisation made you feel repulsed. _Cate Blanchett?_

 

“She’s brought in someone from Max. Inmate suffered extreme blood loss, and is in a fucking coma right now.” You were confused by the lack of context. You hated not knowing something. “Then let the medical handle it. I don’t get why you’re like this.” He bites his bottom lip, hesitant to answer. “I owe her a favour, and now she’s claiming it. I’m worried because not only is her ass on the line, but my ass is dependent on this prisoner’s survival. Linda’s got major dirt on me, and I intend on not having it spread.” You nod, the gears in your head turning. Your brother starts to head to the ER room that the prisoner and Linda is. You follow him in quick steps. Half-shouting another question. “What does she want then? You said the guy’s alive?”

 

“She wants full recovery. Guy better be better than before he was stabbed. But she wants it hushed, as far away from bad PR as possible. A prisoner’s gonna get his own dedicated team or some crazy shit like that.” Both of you were close now, a couple more turns. “And you’re actually considering to follow every request?” The door’s to your left, and you automatically wrapped your hands around it before stopping yourself. “Sorry, you do it.” You take a step back for your brother. “Exactly, I have to.” He mirrors your words as he opens the door and steps inside.

 

As your mind recognises Linda’s face, you felt a wave a disgust and turn your gaze elsewhere. Your brother can sort this out, you convince yourself as his voice fills the room as he greets the black-haired woman with fake warmth. The hospital bed was to your right, and you see the outline of a body at the corner of your eye. You mind thought of multiple scenarios at once for a prisoner to be in this position, now completely filled with curiosity. You head over to see the luckily unlucky man. What was it?

_Gang_ _capture gone wrong? Then there should’ve been multiple sent here._

_Cage fight? No cages there, cell fight more like it._

_Castration? Obviously not, but it does start with a ‘c’._

What **it** was had frozen your body and mind; an upward curve at the torso, thin, pale hands at the sides with veins that pushes high against the skin, lined complexion- wrinkles. Shoulder length dull blond hair, it seems to be greying. Something in the back of your head began pounding to be released. A locked information that you wanted to know as well but can’t recall. Something had reflected light into your eyes. A glint from beside the bed and your eyes searched for the source. Big framed glasses, it reminded you of a style you barely recognised, like in the 80s.

 

A piece of a puzzle manifests in your mind. Whether it’s the final or the first, you don’t know.

 

_Oh,_ _wait- oh no._

 

_C is for Carol. Carol Denning._


End file.
